


Rhythm

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Lucio's Laugh, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, light grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7783726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You never stop tapping or moving.  There’s a rhythm to it, like it's a compulsion you just can't shake, you’ve gotta move, gotta click and thump and snap; what I'm trying to say is, we got a similar rhythm.” </p>
<p>“Dunno nothin’ about music,” Jamie reminds Lucio.</p>
<p>“Music is a state of being, Jamie.  You’ve got a rhythm even if you don't try to.  Everyone’s got a heartbeat, everyone knows how to tap their feet--you just know how to do it in a way I think is attractive,” he says matter-of-factly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forgetfulbirb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Forgetfulbirb).



Caring.

 

Loving.

 

Junkrat-- no, he was Jamie now.  The people here like to call him Jamie-- wrinkles his nose at the thought of the words, but when he turns his head to see dark eyes watching him, he just… melts.

 

Lucio’s lips pull back from his straight white teeth in a grin and he lets out a short laugh.  “What’re you thinking?” He asks, shifting closer and his arm slips around Jamie’s waist.  

 

“Why the fuck’re you here?” Jamie blurts out and it’s too much like something Junkrat would say.  

 

Lucio’s smile doesn't falter, though.  He raises a brow and another laugh leaves his throat, full and right from his chest.

 

“I'm here because you’re here,” he tells Jamie and it feels too much like a dream.  He doesn’t think he’s dreaming.  He doesn’t want to be dreaming.

 

Jamie sucks on his teeth and rests his flesh hand on Lucio’s arm.  His right arm is curled under his head, not really comfortable, but he likes to touch Lucio with his left hand.  He likes to touch Lucio.  He likes it when Lucio touches him.

 

He never expected to enjoy touch.  Never expected to enjoy a person as much as he enjoys Lucio.  

 

“No, I mean…” Jamie makes a harsh noise and his hand tightens on Lucio’s forearm.

 

“Words, babe,” Lucio tells him, soft and warm.

 

Jamie’s eyes snap back up to Lucio’s and all he sees is endless patience.  Roadhog usually just shook him until he got a grip on himself when he couldn't find the words to speak.  All Lucio had to do was remind him that he _knew_ what he wanted to say, just had to bite it out past that block Dr. Ziegler was working on with him.  When it came to emotions, Jamie tended to choke on his words.  He had never had a problem with words until he joined Overwatch.  Never had these kinds of emotions.  Well, _he_ didn’t think he had.  Dr. Zeigler thought he _had_ just that he had never been in “an environment conducive to expressing them.”  Jamie took that to mean that he grew up in a hellhole so far as the rest of the world was concerned.

 

“Why are you _here_?”  He makes another frustrated noise and rolls his eyes at himself.  Typical.  Fucking _typical_.  That definitely made sense, Jamie.  Good show.

 

The hand on his waist tightens and he sucks in a hard breath.  

 

“ _With me_ ,” he finally bites out.

 

“Why are you here with me? I’m… People think I'm weird.  And sometimes I say shit wrong, and you…” Jamie closes his eyes and leaves them like that because Lucio is _brilliant_.

 

_He_ is not.  Jamie makes yet another frustrated noise and opens his eyes when Lucio stays silent, waiting patiently again, his thumb skimming Jamie’s side in a rhythm that is more soothing than the tic-like, impatient taptaptap that Jamie constantly played with his prosthetic when things moved too slow for him.

 

Lucio just smiles-- he doesn't laugh.  He never laughs when it’s serious, and Jamie sucks in a breath, holding it like it might make the expectation that he’ll keep talking go away.  He loved to talk.  Couldn't shut up, usually.  But not when it counted.  Not when Lucio was staring at him like he had all night to look at stars and listen to Jamie’s nattering about his insecurities.

 

“I love you,” Jamie finally blurts out.

 

Lucio gets that delighted look on his face, the one he has for lots of things-- for music, for blueberry pie, for soccer and hockey, for Jamie.

 

“I love you too,” he says, and his hand on Jamie’s waist tugs him closer.  The rigid press of Lucio’s prosthetics are familiar against Jamie’s own thighs.  

 

He wiggles closer still, this time of his own volition. The hand on his waist slips to press against his lower back as their chests and bellies touch, and Lucio tips his head to press their lips together.  

 

Jamie's hand slides up Lucio’s forearm and elbow to clutch his bicep, then his shoulder, then it tangles in the thick dreadlocks of his hair.  He didn't mind kissing.  He felt like it was one of the few things he was good at.  

 

The grass tickles the side of his face, and there’s a building warmth where his body touches Lucio’s.  A laugh bubbles up from Jamie’s chest as Lucio’s hand slips up Jamie’s back, skating over taut muscles and rolling his fingertips over old scars.  When the hand reaches his shoulder, it starts its way back down, just as slow and reverent as it went up.

 

Jamie sucks on Lucio’s lip when the musician finally pulls away, and makes a discontent noise that is immediately swallowed by a happy hum when Lucio’s tongue precedes his lips returning to Jamie’s.

 

The kiss is wetter and involves more teeth and giggling than is probably necessary, but by the time Lucio pulls away again, Jamie can’t think straight let alone be disappointed that the kiss ended.

 

“I'm with you because you’re handsome,” Lucio tells Jamie, his hands slipping up from Jamie’s waist to cup his cheeks.  

 

“Only got one leg to pull, mate,” Jamie snorts, the happy haze from the kiss fading.  “Otherwise I'd tell you to pull the other.”

 

Lucio rolls his eyes and squishes Jamie’s face between his palms.  “And I'm with you because I hear music in everything you do.  Your voice is a high tenor, your bombs are a low bass or a baritone thrumming in the air…” Lucio presses another kiss to Jamie’s lips, slow, careful.

 

Jamie just stares at Lucio like he’s never seen him before.

 

“You never stop tapping or moving.  There’s a rhythm to it, like it's a compulsion you just can't shake, you’ve gotta move, gotta click and thump and snap.”  Lucio wiggles against Jamie with every description and the bomber chuckles, pressing closer and leaning down to suck on Lucio’s collar bone as an excuse to escape his eyes.  

 

Lucio’s right hand slips from Jamie’s face to pet his hair, the other sliding out straight to pillow his head from the grass.  “What I'm trying to say is, we got a similar rhythm.”

 

Jamie hums and pulls back from leaving a rosy bitemark against Lucio’s dark skin.  

 

“Dunno nothin’ about music,” Jamie reminds Lucio.

 

“Music is a state of being, Jamie,” Lucio continues to pet his hair and smiles when Jamie’s eyes drift half closed in response.  “You’ve got a rhythm even if you don't try to.  Everyone’s got a heartbeat, everyone knows how to tap their feet--you just know how to do it in a way I think is attractive,” he says matter-of-factly.

 

Jamie cackles at that, curving in on himself and clutching his left arm to his stomach.  

 

Lucio’s grinning when he finishes and Jamie shoves himself closer, wrapping both arms around Lucio’s neck and pressing their lips together.  He hikes his good leg up over Lucio’s hip and feels the slide of warm, clever fingers up from the back of his knee to sit warm and tantalizing on the back of his thigh, beneath the cuff of his tattered shorts.

 

Jamie shivers at the feel of them, and eagerly slips his tongue past Lucio’s smiling lips, his prosthetic gripping Lucio’s hair as his flesh hand slips down between them to shove up his shirt and allow taut warm skin to touch taut warm skin.

 

_Rhythm._

 

Lucio hums and arches against him.

 

_Sure._

 

Their breaths come in hard pants and Lucio rolls over to straddle Jamie’s hips in the cool grass.

 

Jamie could jive with that.

 


End file.
